


Library Science

by paytontanner



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eskild is clever, Evak - Freeform, Even reads books? Quickly, I Tried, I couldn't stay out of this fandom, Isak is an unwilling librarian, M/M, Slow Burn, The Balloon Squad (SKAM), Timeline What Timeline, but not a sexy way, can't leave em out, even - Freeform, hope you're here for the, i love all these characters so they will be there, isak - Freeform, or maybe eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-16 19:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11259708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paytontanner/pseuds/paytontanner
Summary: The tall guy, Even according to his library card that Isak (did not) sneakily memorize, is back again. For the third time this week. Isak had already planned what he was going to say, so he ignores his dry throat and the thumping of his heart and manages to sound (convincingly) calm when he asks, "Back again? You must be a quick reader."The man smirks from the side of his mouth and slips two books through the return slip and plops another on the counter. He looks Isak confidently in the eye and even though Isak has to glance down nervously the man is still staring when he looks back up. He hands Isak his library card, "When I set my mind to something, then I don't stop until I get it."For a second, Isak thinks the man is talking about something other than books. "You mean when you set your mind on getting something read?"The man smirks again and finally looks away from Isak. "Yeah, something like that."Eskild gets Isak a job at the library. Isak knows Even from the school hallways, but he gets to know him when he starts checking out books at the library. And Even is definitely there just to check out the reading materials. And not to get Isak to fall in love.





	1. Chapter 1

  
**Lørdag**

**11:18**

 

Isak rolled over in bed. His comforter was strewn on the floor so he grabbed his pillow and buried his face into its softness. He was too tired, it was too early and he hated that the light streaming in through his window said otherwise. “Fuck,” he grumbled to himself and fell back asleep. 

 

****

**Lørdag**

**13:02**

 

The next time Isak woke up it was because something (a foot) was pushing into the underside of his rib. The vague callings of his name were muffled by the pillow he had wrapped around his head. He rolled out from under the offending foot and (tried to) ignore the new presence. Then, when the foot inevitably found him again and gave a particularly forceful push, he sat up.

“The fuck?” Isak whipped the pillow off his head, perched himself on his elbows and looked up to find a cheery bare chested man eating (Isak’s) pasta from a bowl. “What the hell, Eskild? I’m sleeping.” 

Eskild rolled his eyes and took a seat at the edge of the mattress. Isak had let his hair grow out longer than normal. Lacking the desire, energy, and 130 kr to pay for it. Jonas had also said it looked cool. So, despite the fact that he was looking at Eskild with obvious impatience, all Eskild saw was a cute, unkempt, blonde boy. 

Amused, Eskild took another bite of (Isak’s) pasta. 

“Freshie,” Eskild spoke slowly. “You know it’s 13:00, right? The world is awake and waiting for you to do great things.” 

Isak threw himself back, grabbed his comforter, and with a practiced maneuver, cocooned himself thoroughly back into bed. “Is that all you wanted? I don’t have anything to do today. It’s Saturday.” Isak said sleepily through his cocoon. 

"What about that elf thing you were going to with Jonas?" 

Isak shook his head in exasperation, "It's not an elf thing. It's called the Elks and I decided not to go." Eskild made a sound of interest, prompting for more. "Eva wanted the ticket, so I sold it to her. Besides, Jonas is really the one who listens to them. Also, I just wanted to sleep."

Eskild sighed heavily. “That may be part of the problem.”

Isak wanted to ignore him and sleep but he had a feeling Eskild wasn’t leaving until he was out of bed. Nonetheless, he shuffled down his mattress so he could make useless attempts to kick Eskild out. “Sleeping is never a problem.” Isak grumped, “You’re a problem. Sleeping is not a problem.”

Eskild put down his now empty bowl of (Isak’s) pasta and sighed once more for theatrics sake. “It might be a problem,” he said slowly. “At least, for you it might be.” He looked around the room. It was, without a doubt, the most teenage boy thing he had ever seen. A set director couldn’t have done it better. There were posters of bands, and brands, and broads all over the walls, and one of the latter sort disturbingly plastered to the ceiling. There were school books piled in a chair, a (decorative) guitar leaning against the closet, and speaking of which -

“Isak, sweetie, your closet - It’s all sweatshirts.” Isak could feel the weight lift from the edge of his bed. “These three are the same! Isak! Why do you need _three_ grey sweatshirts?” 

Isak sat up to find Eskild rifling through his closet with a sense of sadness. “Why is it a problem?”

“Because there is no reason to have three! One, okay, but three? All this time, in my own home-”

“Eskild! Not the clothes. Sleeping. Why is my sleeping a problem?”

“Oh, right.” Eskild reluctantly turned his attention to Isak. “You’re late on your rent. Again. And me and Linn were talking - Or, I was talking to Linn, because it’s Linn, and the decision was made that you need to get money.”

“Um, okay.”

Eskild rolled his eyes. “ _And_ rather than pimping you and your sweet, sweet self out. We, or I, decided that you need a job. At the library. Where Linn works. I already filled out most of your application. Would you say your passions revolve more around charity for impoverished Slavic children or walking around Oslo to pick up trash, for the Earth? I was -”

“Eskild,” Isak interrupted, rubbing his hands over his face. “You already picked up an application? How long have you -”

“Filled out an application, or _most_ of it, anyway. I’m thinking the Slavic children. And since November’s rent.”

Isak blanched. “November? It’s January! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could’ve - could’ve... “

The older man looked at him sympathetically. Eskild had been a comfort as Isak had moved in and stressed over his mamma and her (mental) health, and his pappa and their (strained) relationship, and what it meant to be seventeen and living out on his own. It was hard and Isak had struggled and (somewhat) learned to cope and Eskild had been there for him throughout it all.  
Isak shrugged. “I could’ve found something, really. You know I felt bad letting you guys cover for me. I’m still saving to pay both of you back.” Isak played with his comforter, too guilty to look up. 

“Hey, Isak-y, we know you were going through stuff. It’s fine.” His voice was soft and for a moment they were quiet. 

Then Eskild saw _another_ grey sweatshirt stuffed in the back of Isak’s closet. “My poor, sad, gay heart. Your choices reflect poorly on me, you know.” He held out the offensive object accusingly. “You can’t wear this to work.” 

“Work at the library?” Isak asked.

“Yes.” Eskild had started making a pile of clothing around his arm. “I shared the link with you; the application link.” Eskild nodded towards Isak's computer, suggesting that he wouldn't be leaving until Isak at least humored him be reading it through. 

So, he huffed once and then sprawled across his bed to grab his laptop. He closed out of (several) tabs that he was (beyond) thankful Eskild hadn’t taken the initiative to find. 

****

**ISAK-Y SEXY LIBRARIAN APPLICATION**

“Sexy librarian?” Isak asked skeptically.

“Yes, that’s the one. The position isn’t necessarily sexy, but you in it...the idea of it…Jesus, a red one too...” Eskild trailed off as he continued to search through Isak’s closet. 

As he looked through it, there were some glaringly obvious misconstructions of his character. He was born in 1999, not 2004 (offensive), his middle name was not _dreamy_ , and his prior work experience was nonexistent and not as Eskild had so lovingly written: _lazy_. Furthermore…

“Leaving the shower in only a towel’ isn’t a skill.” 

Eskild barely spared him a glance. “The way you do it, though.” 

Isak looked at him questioningly. “Eskild, I am going to have to make some revisions and check with my mum about some of these other questions. Um, when should I turn it in?”

“Linn said they’ve been looking to fill the position for the last three weeks.” He slid (or attempted to slide) the closet doors shut. “Fix it up and turn it in ASAP, sweet cheeks.”

“Okay, but…” Isak looked up “Hey! What are you doing with all my stuff?”

Eskild shuffled toward the door while looking at him innocently. “You can write ‘donating to charity’ down on the application.” He slipped out the door, poking his head back in to cheerily sing, “You’re welcome!” 

“Eskild! Those are my clothes!” Isak jumped up, stepping towards the door. Then, as the comforter slid off he realized he was only wearing his pants, the ones he was wearing while he had all the (incognito) tabs open last night. In other words, not something he wanted to be teased about for the next several months. “Shit! Eskild!”

“The children of the Slovak nations kindly thank you for your generous donations,” Eskild’s voice echoed down the hall. 

Isak ran his hand over his face as he walked back toward his bed, repositioning his comforter and himself into it. Why has he been in this position so often since he moved in with Eskild and Linn? He wasn’t (always) nearly naked, but exasperated - yes. Somehow tangled in a clever web of Eskild’s doing - yes. But all the better for it - (a reluctant) yes. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late (or really early) but it's done and I'm posting. Thanks to those who gave chapter one a chance. Cheers! xx

**Søndag**  


**23: 54**

 

Because Isak has always easily given in to the demands of those he loves, he submits the library application by the end of night Sunday. That's not to say he doesn't whine on about it, but he's weaker than he will ever (outwardly) admit to. Eskild pats him on the head, much like a pleased pet owner, and it makes Isak regret everything because Eskild is weirdly excited that he will know where to find Isak from 16:00 to 20:00 every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday. Isak sees visions of bringing home Eskild’s gay romance novels and he (definitely) needs out but since he’s not skilled in code or hacking or whatever it takes to un-submit the application, he resigns himself to his (very) sad fate. 

Nonetheless, he’s decided he is not going to tell anyone because - well, he has reasons. 

****

 

**Mandag**  


**8:45**

 

“Halla, boys.” Isak greets, shaking hands with Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus who are all lounging on the tables outside school. “How was the weekend?”

“I was just telling the boys about that band me and Eva went to on Saturday. Was sick.” Jonas offered. 

“The Elks?”

“Yeah, The Elks.”

Mahdi wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “And then what did you do?”

Jonas laughed, “Then we went back to her house and just chilled. Watched that movie... _The Wedding Singer_. You know?”

“Oh, really? That’s all? Chilled?” Mahdi nodded skeptically but Jonas just shrugged, smugly. 

Eva and Jonas had been dating since last summer. Isak was usually their (welcomed) third wheel. He had been friends with Eva for longer but he was closer friends with Jonas. So, they had very naturally fallen into a circle of friendship. 

“Same, same, that’s how my night was too.” Magnus clapped Jonas on the back in a show of companionship. 

“The fuck!” Isak laughed, “Who was sleeping with you, Mags? Fucking Selena Gomez?”

Magnus’ unrelenting attempts to convince the guys he wasn’t a virgin were almost as entertaining as his actual attempts to lose his virginity. He was so eager over his first kiss that he came into hard, smashed teeth and in a week the whole school knew that she was having tooth aches. 

But because Magnus has no shame, he was, as he often is, genuinely affronted at Isak’s comment. “No, not fucking Selena Gomez. A fucking girl from Oslo.”

“Oh yeah?” Jonas looked at him with amusement. “From Oslo, then?”

“Yeah, that’s right. From Oslo. Tove from Elvebakken.”

“That’s bullshit.” Mahdi shoved Magnus. “The only girl you’ve slept with is -”

As Magnus stumbled for his footing, his spot revealed an unfamiliar face lounging behind him. He was coolly leaning against the brick of the building with one foot bent against the wall. He was stood alone, not on his phone, or listening to anything, just watching the people pass by. Like Isak, he was fair, and blonde, and tall, but even taller than Isak. His hair was shaped (messily) atop his head and even from the distance, Isak could see that his face was all sharp angles and soft features. Isak followed the line of his razored jaw to find the tip of a cigarette tucked behind his ear. Had Isak seen him before?

“Isak?” Magnus stepped in front of him. Giving him a light push in the shoulder when he didn’t respond. “Isak?”

Isak attempted one last look at him, stepping out to see around Mags. As he located the boy once again, he found that he was not a hidden observer, but had somehow also caught his attention. For one paralyzed second Isak held eye contact with him. Then, with a sideways glance and a smirk, he pulled the cigarette from behind his ear and walked off. 

Jonas tugged on Isak’s elbow to jerk him off balance. “Isak!” 

Isak lost track of him.

He turned toward his friends. All staring at him. Confusion on their faces. 

“What?” Isak questioned defensively and then more calmly offered an excuse. “Sorry, I zoned out.”

“Um, okay.” Jonas laughed. “What did you do this weekend? I never heard from you after Eva bought your ticket. They were selling them at the door. You should've came.”

“What? Like I text you every weekend?” Isak dismissed it but Jonas only nodded because (yes) Isak _did_ text Jonas every weekend. To be fair, Jonas also texted Isak every weekend. So, they were both somewhat guilty for any co-dependency they had developed. Isak kept his response vague, “I was busy Saturday. Had some stuff to do.” 

Jonas looked at him quizzically, "Okay..." 

“Dependent” Mahdi sing-songed teasingly, and Isak rolled his eyes. “Speaking of _in_ dependent, is Eva bringing Noora along to the party this weekend?” 

Magnus jumped in, “What about Verne? Vana? Or what was it - Vilde?”

“Noora’s so hot. I’m going to hook up with her.” Mahdi confirmed. 

Jonas scoffed, “Good luck- both of you.”

 

* * *

 

Isak is very consciously not (trying to) look around the halls to catch a top of blonde hair and in class he is (absolutely) not _forcing_ himself to focus on the lecture, and not - other things. Despite this, it doesn’t work and the running track in his mind keeps telling him to stop being weird and to stop thinking about it (or him). It’s like he’s focusing on Bio and then all the sudden four minutes have passed and he realizes he’s been asking himself questions about the lad. Did he transfer from Handelsgymnasium? Elvebakke? How old is he? Looked to be older than Isak, he determines. What’s his name? Where’s he living? If he transferred, why? Maybe his parents -

“Isak!” His lab partner whispers and taps him on the leg under the table. “She asked you a question.”

Isak dazedly turns toward his partner and she pointedly looks toward their teacher. 

With a start, Isak straightens himself up. “Sorry, Mrs. Sørensen. What - What was the question?”

Isak feels betrayed as he senses a red heat flushing up his neck. He’ll curse the dead give away of his humiliation until the day he dies. 

“What did you and your partner answer for number 18?”

“Um, let me see.” Isak shuffles through his papers. Now realizing that he was distracted enough to not sort them out in the first place. “The inner membrane?”

“Yes, that’s it.” She sighs as if hoping for an opportunity to tell him to pay attention. She turns toward the rest of the class, “If there aren’t any questions, then you and your partner can begin working on the chapter 8 questions.”

“You okay?” Sana, his lab partner, asks from his side. Isak gives a frustrated shrug and Sana nods her head, pressing him for more. This is what Isak loves and hates about Sana. She just _knows_. 

Isak is the type of person who likes to keep all his feelings brimming under the surface until he can let them all out in one (completely) unintentional and alarming explosion. Sana knows this, and she’s so great because she just wants to help but Isak really doesn’t know how to let her. He grew up in a household that was full of highly emotionally and destructive outburst (mamma) and distant aloofness (pappa). Isak bounces between the two extremes. 

“Yeah, it’s all fine. Just tired - that's all.”

Sana looks unconvinced and adds, "You know I am here for you, right? I know one of these days your thick skill will process that information."

Sana is firm and her authenticity kind of scares Isak. The problem isn't that he can't trust her. It's just that he doesn't even know what he needs to talk to her about.

"Thanks, Sana. Promise. I just didn't get a lot of sleep this weekend." 

She doesn't drop her serious expression but Isak can't think of what more he can say. So, as Isak (often) does, he changes the subject, “Number 1, then? Was that at the beginning of last night’s reading?” 

Sana sighs but flips to the beginning of the chapter. 

 

* * *

****

**Onsdag**

**15:37 ~~~~**

 

**~~~~**

**~~~~**

The hallway is clear except for Isak. His maths book is still in his locker and the door is jammed. Every (single) day as Isak fights this battle, he tells himself that he will clean it out (today) and end the chaos. Yet, at the start and end of every (single) school day, Isak finds himself banging, slamming, and letting out muttered grumbles of frustration. 

****

“Open you lousy piece of -” Isak bangs his fist against the jam, takes a deep breath, and curses when the door doesn’t open as he lifts the latch. 

****

He lets out a small cry and pleads with the (damned) door. “Please, I’ve got to be at work in 20 minutes.” He tries to appease it with a gentler approach and jiggles the latch. It doesn't budge. “I can’t be late. C’mon!” 

****

Isak startles when he hears a door shut behind him. He checks his watch (15:41) and decides it’s either his maths homework or next month's rent and he decides on the latter. So, with one last frustrated slam of his palm against the jam (to no avail), he curses, stuffs his remaining books into his bag, zips it, curses and rushes down the hall. 

****

“Halla.”

****

Isak turns to look at the stairs next to the doors. At first, he just spares a glance. Then he stops because it’s that guy - the tall one. And it’s weird because it’s clear he was walking up the stairs but at some point he stopped and now he is looking over his shoulder, staring down at Isak. And he still has that (same?) cigarette behind his ear and more importantly that smirk. It’s kind of lopsided and his eyes are crinkled. He looks friendly but it’s about the point that Isak makes this conclusion that he realizes he’s been staring at him silently for a few seconds too long. 

****

“Halla,” Isak says quickly. Again, Isak can feel this heat creeping up his neck and he reaches his hand up to readjust the neck of his sweatshirt. 

****

Isak’s thinking about what he should say next but then the guy purses his lips slightly, raises a hand in farewell and continues walking up the stairs. 

Isak’s a little shaken and (for the second time) finds himself watching the guy walk away.

****


	3. Chapter 3

**Torsdag**

**18:04**

 

Isak’s pushing this cart loaded down with three full racks of books through the aisles for the second time that day. So far, he’s not in love with the job. He’s not an avid reader, because - video games. And most of his future ambitions lay somewhere in the medical or engineering fields and not mindless and menial task like re-stacking shelves.

Also his boss, Hilde, a heavy-set older woman with frizzy gray hair, seemed skeptical of him from the start. Admittedly, he should have taken Eskild’s advice and not looked so much like “a homeless frat boy” on his first day. Hilde was decidedly not impressed by his backwards cap and track zip-up. Not to mention that he had tripped running after the tram and ripped a somewhat bloody hole into the knee of his jeans. After he introduced himself she told him with a sharp clip that “Although we don’t have a dress code, the expectation is that we present ourselves as scholarly, academic and professional. We are librarians after all, not street thugs.”

So, on just the fifth day of his new job, Isak swallows all his complaints because after all, it’s money and he’s not really in a position to whine. 

It’s not all bad though. Linn always has leftovers in the fridge that Isak takes the liberty of helping himself to. The commute isn’t horrible either. From schools, it's just a short two block walk to the plaza, about a ten-minute ride and then the library is three blocks away. Not to mention that it’s only a ten-minute walk to the kollektiv. And when he isn’t re-stacking shelves then he’s allowed to work on coursework at the front desk but not (as he had learned) while listening to Nas using his headphones.

Isak’s placing “Dazed and Confused” on the shelf when he’s interrupted. 

“Excuse me,” a girl a little older than Isak says. Her hair is short and blonde. “Can you help me find a book?” 

Isak nods. “Yeah, no problem. What were you looking for?” 

She tells him the author and Isak leads the way because Hilde has already told him (three times) that he should never point in the direction of an item but be the “holding hand that leads them.” He takes it off the shelf, double-checks the title and hands it to her. 

“You’re an artist?” He asks, walking her up to the checkout counter. “What do you draw?”

She laughs. “No, not me. It’s my boyfriends - he’s decided to try a new style. It’s his new obsession, really.” She hands him her card. “I told him I’d run in and grab it for him.” 

Isak nods, swipes her card and her name pops up on his screen: _Sonia_. 

“Well, good luck to him.” He hands her the book and her card. “It’s due back next Wednesday.” 

She thanks him and turns to leave. And Isak’s feeling pretty (damn) professional because he just libraried the hell out of that girl. But then, as she’s walking away, Hilde comes marching out of her office, tears a piece of paper from the printer by Isak’s computer and shoves it in front of his nose. 

“Her receipt?” She says, eyebrows raised pointedly. 

Fuck. 

He hurries out behind the desk as the girl pushes through the first set of doors. “Excuse me! Miss!” Isak realizes he said it only a pitch to loud after several readers look up from their material. Every face showing some level of annoyance. 

She stops, allowing Isak to catch up. 

“I forgot to give you your receipt.” He says bashfully and then apologizes, “Sorry, I’m new here.”

She smiles kindly. “Thanks!” 

Isak holds the outer door open and she slips by, shuffling through the snow to meet up with the person waiting for her. As she does, Isak notices him - the boyfriend. It’s the tall guy, the blonde one with the cigarette tucked behind his ear. Accept, as they clasp hands, Isak notices that it’s no longer there. 

Isak’s watching from behind the door and he’s sure that the guy doesn’t see him because they’re walking away. And Isak can’t help but notice that the guy is seriously tall because her head barely reaches his shoulders and he has to lean down, crane his neck and bend his knees slightly in order to kiss her. He smiles after they break, that lopsided grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

Then, all the sudden, with a glance over his shoulder, he sees Isak. And Isak is stuck, again. The guy is 12 meters away, but Isak knows he’s looking at him and he’s frozen to his spot. It’s just enough time for him to feel a slight burn reddening his chest and just beginning to creep up his neck. And then his smile falters and just like on the stairs, his lips draw a little tighter. 

Sonia, the girlfriend, tugs on his hand, forcing his attention back to her. And they turn to leave and Isak stands there still watching. And the red has now (definitely) managed to shade his entire neck but the guy never looks back.

* * *

**Fredag**

**19:47**

 

[](http://ios.foxsash.com/) 


 

Isak’s standing outside Jonas’ house. He could go in because Jonas’ mamma loves him but he’s feeling a bit moody and irritable. He’s bothered about the blonde guy and he’s bothered more by the fact that it’s bothering him. He’s been imagining about running into him at the school toilets, and then _realizing_ he’s thinking about him when Eskild tells him he’s burning his eggs and then becoming increasingly frustrated as he eats his burnt eggs knowing that that guy caused it. And Isak is just so done with it all. 

He really shouldn’t care and that’s what makes it all so irritating.

Isak checks his phone. It’s cold and dark and Isak never wears enough layers for the freezing January nights in Oslo. 19:51. He shoots off a text to Jonas, notices that it doesn’t get read after a few minutes and shoves his phone back into his pocket. 

Isak knows that someone he is friends with is bound to have some information about the guy. Nissen is big but guys that look like that, especially mid-year transfers, don’t attend without a little bit of excitement and gossip. Not like Isak even wants any gossip, but just to say that -

“Halla, Isak-y!”

Isak turns to see Jonas and Eva coming out the door. Jonas’ dark complexion hides any tell but Eva is flush and even from a distance Isak can tell that her hair is a bit more mussed than usual. 

Isak sighs. “You were having sex.”

Eva has the decency to look embarrassed but Jonas just lets out a bark of laughter. 

“I’ve been standing in the cold for the last ten minutes because you two were having sex.”

“Isak-y,” Jonas says throwing an arm around him. “It’s been five minutes and you should’ve came in and talked with mamma.”

He grumbles "It's been at least ten minutes." 

Eva grabs Jonas’ free hand and they begin walking. She gives Isak a once over, “Why do you always dress like this in the middle of winter? It’s too cold.”

“Hello, I always dress like this - it’s an all-seasons look. Plus, I’m not even cold.” Isak is grumpy with them because he knows he can be. And also because they’ve just had sex and Isak has just been standing in a pile of snow. And that's _really_ unfair. So, he’s going to be short, and they’re going to tolerate him because that’s what friends do. He will pout and he will (absolutely) not feel bad about it. 

Jonas just stares at him, that big toothy smile forcing Isak to crack one of his own. 

“What?” He shouts laughing, “I’m not cold!”

Jonas just shrugs, “Okay.”

* * *

The party isn’t bad. Sure, Jonas keeps sneaking into corners with Eva and Mahdi and Magnus only want to talk about which girl is the hottest. And that’s all fine for a little while, but they all know it’s that brunette with the green dress, and now they can move on. Plus, Isak’s managed to open his seventh free beer for the night and someone settled on a Dr. Dre Spotify playlist, so some things are going well.

There’s a lot of bodies and while most of them are in the middle of the room, dancing, there are a lot too (like Isak) who are just standing on the perimeter watching. Not watching for anything in particular, he reminds himself but just watching. While they were walking over, Isak repeatedly told himself that he couldn’t look for the guy. It would be a desperate act and it would make him feel all the worse when he didn’t see him. Yeah, the host was a year older but that didn’t mean that he would be there. Besides Isak really shouldn’t care and to prove that he promised to not bother looking around much when he walked in. 

And it works (truly) for the first ten minutes because Isak only looks at people’s chests (guys) or the floor (girls) and then only in their face once they’ve started a conversation with him. But then Noora pulls him down on the couch next to her and it all goes to shit. 

“Did you see him?” she asks knowingly, her red lips turned softly. 

“Did I see what?”

“That guy, that you asked Eva about. He’s here. I don’t know his name but he’s in my Spanish class. That’s him right?” 

She nods her head in the direction of the kitchen and Isak is holding his breathe as he looks over. Sure enough, the crowd parts just enough for him to see the guy leaning against the kitchen counter. One hand is wrapped around his drink, the other stretched around the back of his girlfriend (Sonia’s) neck and the cigarette is back behind his ear. 

Isak looks away quickly. “You take Spanish with him?”

“Spanish III. He must be a 97...I didn’t know who Eva was talking about when she asked, but then I saw him here and figured that must be who you were interested in.”

Isak whips his head toward Noora, “I’m not _interested_ in anyone, Noora.” He looks over to the corner Eva (the betrayer) and Jonas disappeared into, “And I didn’t know Eva was going to send out a bat call for me.”

Noora just smiles and places a hand on his shoulder. “I know,” she says and Isak isn’t sure what she knows but it definitely can’t be right. 

Isak spares another glance over (voluntarily) and he sees the guy talking to someone else. He looks intense and serious like someone talking about a passion of theirs or a lifelong dream. His lips are tight in a way that Isak is starting to feel is familiar and his eyebrows knitted closer together. The girlfriend (Sonia) isn’t nearly as invested in the conversation as he is. She’s looking up at her boyfriend and that’s when Sana interrupts and Isak realizes he is just as guilty as the girlfriend. 

“That’s what had you distracted, then.” Sana jokes, looking over at the couple, and Isak throws himself back into the couch with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m not _distracted_ by anything and I’m not _interested_ in anyone. However, all of you are much too interested in me.”

Sana sighs, “Well, she is pretty.”

Noora confirms and Isak is confused until he realizes that of yes, of course. They are talking about the girlfriend (Sonia) and that makes sense. Unlike everything else that’s been happening, that makes perfect sense. 

“You know, if you like her, you should go talk to that girl.” Sana points to a girl that Isak has seen in his Norwegian class. “I’m pretty sure they’re friends.”

* * *

Isak’s smooth (as fuck) when there aren’t any stakes on the line. So when he slides up next to Emma (Sonia’s sister’s friend, as he learns) he is cool, he is suave, and he is making out with her on some bed in no time. In no way does she ever suspect that most of his moves and lines have been stolen from rom-coms that he (definitely) watched (only) once. 

Emma’s phone beeps. “You’re friends are wondering where you went.” Isak whispers with his hand behind Emma’s head and her lips trailing down his neck. 

“I’ll tell them I’m with Isak.” She laughs, “It’s just my friend and her sister I came with, anyway. They were...busy.” 

Her lips brush against his jaw and he leans them back on the bed. She (fails) to hide a smile as Isak brushes his hand along her leg. Because _yeah, he’s good_ and she is feeling it. And It’s not that he’s not feeling it because he is. But that feeling seems more mechanical and reactionary than anything else. And Isak knows that not exactly right. 

“Oh yeah? What were they busy with?” He hears her phone buzz again and brushes a strand of hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. “The people, they want you.”

“They’ll survive...I don’t know. Mari was talking to some guy. Jørgen, I think was his name. And Sonia was talking to her boyfriend. He just transferred to Nissen, so they’re all over.” 

Isak kisses the spot where her jaw meets her ear and prods her for more. “They’ve been together for a long time, then?”

Emma is under him now and she wraps her arm around his back to (force) bring his body down on hers. Isak wedges onto his elbow next to her head to give them a little more distance but she doesn’t notice. 

“Yeah, nearly a year or so...they say they’re in love.” She says it airily but Isak feels it somewhere in his chest. He kisses the side of her mouth and tells himself that it's lust that he feels. And he tries harder to get on the same level that she's on. 

“You’re so hot.” He whispers and she _purrs_. 

She moves her hand around his neck, pulling him closer. “I’ve liked you since you walked into Norwegian. You know that, right?” She kisses Isak’s bottom lip and he lets her do it. "I thought you hadn't noticed me but you have. God, Isak." She tugs on his hair to pull him deeper into her. 

“Emma!”

The door behind them flies open and Emma sits up suddenly, knocking her forehead against Isaks. 

“Fuck,” Isak yelps leaning back and grabbing his forehead. 

“Oh shit, sorry! Sorry!” Emma puts a comforting hand on his shoulder but quickly maneuvers herself from underneath him. “Sonia, hey. Me and Isak were just chilling.” 

Isak looks up, sees the same Sonia from the library standing amused in the doorway. She has a drink in one hand and her sister in the other. “Is that what you call hooking up nowadays?” She scoffs and then looks at Isak. “You’re the guy from the library, right? The new one?”

It’s then, as he’s nodding his head towards Sonia and still clutching his throbbing head, that another face appears in the doorway (shit). It’s the guy and there’s a soft smile on his lips. Isak is so surprised and flustered that he looks down into his lap immediately. 

“Anyway,” Sonia says, “Mari’s sick, so we’re leaving.”

Emma sounds disappointed and holds firmly onto Isak’s shoulder. “Yeah, okay.” She leans down and kisses the top of his head. “Ice that and call me tomorrow, okay?” 

Isak doesn’t say anything but he nods and tells her he will although he knows he won’t. She leaves him there on the bed and follows Sonia out. 

He lingers though, the guy, he has one foot in the doorway and Isak can feel him staring, but he doesn’t look up at him - at least not right away. And when he does the guy is smiling, his eyes crinkling slightly at the sides. His hair is even taller and messier than last time Isak saw it but somehow much better too. 

“You okay?” He asks looking at the spot Isak is (still) clutching with his hands. 

Isak glances away quickly. “Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” He doesn’t know if it’s the beer, or the confidence Emma gave him but he doesn’t feel any heat creeping into his neck or face. For that, he is thankful to both Emma and the beer, or maybe both. 

“Are you with Emma, then?” He asks and Isak knows he screws up his face in confusion because weird. That’s unexpected and wasn’t at all what Isak thought a conversation might start like between them but he answers it anyway. 

“No, we just met, really.” He assures him, “Just, y’know, hooking up.”

The guy looks down, smiles and when he looks back up he has a full lopsided grin on. “Yeah, good,” he says quietly and then louder, “Me and Sonia are together.”

Isak’s really confused at this point. He doesn’t know why he shared that information (weird) or why he’s smiling like that (not weird). More so, he’s really unsure as to what the tightness in his chest is from because he knows Emma knocked him in the head and that doesn’t make sense. But the guy is just looking at him and Isak feels like he wants something but Isak really has no idea what. 

“Okay, cool,” Isak says slowly, not really sure what to say. “I’m Isak,” he adds. 

The guys face falls into a softness and the smile lingers on his lips. “Halla, Isak.” He glances down the hallway, the call of his name muffled by the time it reaches Isak’s ears. He spares Isak a fleeting glance and Isak notices that his eyes are an alarming shade of blue. And they’re perfectly round. And then they’re gone because the guy says, “Nice meeting you, Isak” and walks out the door. 

So before Isak has a chance to ask for his name, or tell him he really doesn’t know Emma at all, or say he’s glad that they’ve met, he’s gone. 

And Isak sits there holding his head, feeling confused and wondering what he will say next time they talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for bookmarking, liking, and commenting. Much appreciated! xx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read. Cheers!


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